


threnody

by lumenera



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Moderate Longing, Soulmates, Third Years, author was bullied into writing two happy endings, but merged it into one happy ending, mentioned kagehina and kinkuni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24987934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumenera/pseuds/lumenera
Summary: If Kageyama is Icarus, reaching for the sun, then Akira is Daedalus--the cautious one, never testing the limits. But in this version, Icarus does not drown. A murder of crows swoops down to carry him away on their black wings, saying softly, over and over again,together, or not at all.When Akira wakes up in the morning, the name Kageyama Tobio is written on his ankle in block kanji.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira
Comments: 12
Kudos: 64





	threnody

Kunimi Akira has never put much faith into soulmates. So on the eve of his eighteenth birthday, March 25th, he doesn't do anything out of the ordinary. He eats dinner at 6:30. He does his homework for an hour or so, but then gives up and switches to his latest video game. At ten o’clock on the dot, he gets ready for bed, and by 10:30, the lights are off and his covers tucked up to his chin.

When he wakes up in the morning, the name _Kageyama Tobio_ is written on the inside of his left ankle in block kanji. Four characters. Forty-two neat strokes, like someone ran him through a printer overnight.

Still, he goes about his day like usual. The team wishes him a happy birthday. He and Kindaichi go out to a cafe, and he orders a slice of cake. The frosting is light and airy, with fresh fruit on top. He treats himself to some extra free time after dinner. No one asks about his soul mark, but they know that he doesn't care for those things. He also supposes Kindaichi has scared the team into withholding their curiosity, because Kindaichi understands that Akira prefers it that way.

What is he supposed to do? Talk to Kageyama? Kageyama's moved on from what happened. Akira has watched Kageyama's growth from the sidelines, as the boy he once knew as the King of the Court sheds his title and embraces Karasuno time and time again, proving that people change. He's seen Kageyama with Hinata at tournaments, looking far too close to be just friends. There are some setter-spiker relationships that transcend typical ones, and theirs is no exception, how they don’t need words to communicate. He's seen it before, with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. There's a wide margin of difference between Akira and Hinata Shouyou, and he's pretty sure he knows which of them Kageyama prefers.

He doesn't blame him.

If he were Kageyama, he would have done the same. Akira won't try and advocate that what he did was right, because it wasn't. Fourteen-year-old boys are children, and children are impulsive. They don't think about the consequences of their actions, just living in the now and what they believe to be right, no matter how twisted that logic is. But there's nothing he can do about it. _Or nothing he wants to do about it_ , a small voice says. There's no need to bring back old memories.

He ignores the words on his skin. Akira throws himself back into his normal life, like the words aren’t there at all. His socks always go past his ankle.

***

Their third year Spring High preliminaries is when he sees it. Akira is filling his water bottle at the fountain when Hinata sits down with his back to the wall, stripping off his street shoes in exchange for his volleyball ones. On his ankle is the name _Miya_ _Atsumu_ , the black ink bold on his skin. Two characters, much simpler and nothing like the four on his own ankle. Distracted, Akira forgets his water bottle is nearly full and the excess splashes over his hand. He jerks his hand back and turns off the fountain. When he looks back, Kageyama rounds the corner.

"Oi, Hinata," Kageyama says as his head snaps towards Akira. The two of them stare at each other. He's not sure why they're engaged in a staring contest, but he can't bring himself to look away. Kageyama's eyes are incisive, swirling dark blue as they seemingly cut open his soul and extract all of his secrets. _He knows_. Then, _of course he knows_. Kageyama might be 9 months younger than him, but his birthday has long past, and thus, he would have already received his mark. Assuming it was really Akira’s name there. He’s heard of people having different soulmates than what their names said, but it’s rare. Rare enough that he’s confident it hasn’t happened to him. It has to be his name; why else would Kageyama be staring him down?

"I'll be leaving then," says Hinata quickly, sensing the mood and making his escape before he can get dragged into this mess.

Their staring contest drags on. Neither dares to speak. Chatter floats up from the hallway, mixed with the sound of balls hitting the floor and "Nice kill!" as warm-ups start.

Finally, Akira breaks the tension with a sharp exhale. "Kageyama."

"Kunimi." And just like that, they're back to where they started— eyes locked and mouths closed.

There's an aching in Akira's heart, because it didn't have to be this way. He remembers the early days of their first year in junior high. Kageyama was softer then, eager to please, but somewhere between their first and third year, something changed. His love for volleyball fueled his desire to be the best, and he let it be the driving factor in every aspect of his playing style.

There could have been a future where they played in harmony. Akira knows that Kageyama has the capacity to adapt to others. _Why couldn’t he have done that for me?_

Perhaps Akira mourns who they once were. Things were simpler then, but they aren't kids anymore, and this isn't Kitagawa Daiichi. He knows this. They can't turn back time, fix the past, or pretend like it didn't happen. He mourns their loss, stuck in the what-ifs and the maybes. This, the _now_ , is the present, and it is the only timeline that is real.

"I suppose we need to talk, don't we?"

***

Neither of them have to go onto the court for another thirty minutes, so Akira finds a secluded hallway for them, away from the gyms so full of noise. He sighs. He might as well start the conversation.

"We're soulmates."

"I'm dating Hinata." The two of them speak at the same time, words overlapping, but Akira hears him all the same.

He gives a small nod, trying not to betray his own emotions. "I figured you were." It’s hard to miss the glances, the touches, and the way the two of them work so well together, whether Akira be in the stands, or on the other side of the court as Karasuno’s opponent.

Kageyama rolls down his sock, displaying the name of his soulmate. _Kunimi Akira_. Thoughts whirl in Akira’s brain, none of them coherent enough to make any sense, just fragments and feelings.

 _It hurts, doesn't it?_ To know that you were supposed to be someone's first choice, but they threw it all away for someone else not once, but twice. Akira lost to Hinata long before he entered the competition. Three characters _—_ twenty-three strokes _—_ is all the leverage he has against the spellbinding luminosity of the sun that is Hinata Shouyou. He never stood a chance.

He knew that, but to have someone else confirm it is all the more worse, especially if that someone is Kageyama Tobio.

"I'm sorry," he says instead. It's an apology in two parts: one, for his mistakes all those years ago, and another, for not being the one Kageyama wants.

"Do your best on the court," Kageyama says. "We'll beat you again."

He turns and walks away. Akira watches him go, watches him slip through his fingertips. Maybe, if Akira reaches out a hand, it’ll be Kitagawa Daiichi all over again, always chasing Kageyama, always trying to keep up. In the end, he never does; Kageyama is far too out of reach. How history loves to repeat itself, and how there is far too much irony in that statement.

***

If Kageyama is Icarus, reaching for the sun, then Akira is Daedalus _—_ the cautious one, never testing the limits. He is content to stay where he is. But in this version, Icarus does not drown. A murder of crows swoops down on their black wings, saying softly, over and over again, _together, or not at all_.

(The king lets go of the crown he once held. It bounces once before rolling to a standstill, clattering. No king holds their crown forever, and this dethroning is a peaceful one. The sound of a new era dawns, and the people rejoice.

The gates close Akira out, and he is left, hands on the iron bars, watching the happy ending he does not get.)

***

Seijoh loses the finals, of course. It doesn’t even take five matches; Karasuno sweeps three sets in one go, and just like that, it’s all over for them. The audience roars in noiseless sound. Hinata’s grinning, like his entire world has been wrapped up into this one moment. Yamaguchi and Tskushima throw their arms around each other in celebration. And Kageyama, Kageyama’s _smiling_ as their team piles onto their third years in the most unorthodox hug Akria’s ever seen in his life. He does not cry, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kindaichi’s wet cheeks and clenched fists.

They line up and thank their cheering squad for their continued support. Their first year setter looks to be on the brink of tears, and Akira doesn’t know what to tell him. Today has been a field of landmines, and Akira has been stepping in one after another, hoping ever so slightly that they won’t go off. He is the one playing with fire, and the wrong words can crumble a spirit. He will not be responsible for that, not after the events that transpired today.

Kindaichi is the one who offers words of comfort. “You’ll do well next time,” he says, even though all of them know that is an empty lie. There is no next time. There are no more second chances for Akira and Kindaichi, for the team they are together, at this very moment. Their setter takes the words regardless, drying his eyes.

“Thank you, Kindaichi-san,” he says, bowing.

Akira’s mind flashes back to Oikawa and Iwaizumi and Hanamaki and Matsukawa, all those years ago. _Now we are one and the same_ , he thinks bitterly. Outshone by Karasuno and Kageyama Tobio once more.

***

The coaches decide that their team needs a beach day, so off they go, packed into a bus for an hour or more until they reach the shore. He’s not sure why they’re doing this after the Spring High Preliminaries, when the third years are barely weeks away from graduating, but he doesn’t question his coaches. Akira would prefer staying home, but building team morale is important, and as vice captain, he’s obligated to go. It would be nice to see his kouhai happy. They deserve it.

He slips off his shoes and sets them beside his towel, feeling the warm sand under his toes. It’s a nice day out, with the ocean mist gently brushing his face. He finds Kindaichi next to him, looking down, and Akira follows his gaze.

“It’s him?” Kindaichi asks.

Akira nods. Kindaichi takes off his shoes as well. The inside of his left ankle is bare, smooth, pale skin in contrast to his tan legs, outlining his socks. It’s far past Kindaichi’s eighteen birthday.

He drinks in the scene with an inhale, capturing the moment in his mind. His kouhai splash each other as the waves roll in, shrieks of laughter as they start a war or two or three, later to be forgiven over lemonades, sand castles and endless rounds of beach volleyball. Their coaches, comfortably seated on beach chairs under a large umbrella with drinks, hands in the air as they animatedly discuss something. The trees, swaying in the breeze as Akira’s toes sink further into the warm sand. And Kindaichi, _oh, Kindaichi_ , giving him an expectant look. He exhales.

(If he had a choice, it would be to stay here, forever in this miniscule instant, wouldn’t it? No soulmates, no futures to stress about. Only here and now, with nothing else that matters at all.)

“Maybe we don’t have to choose our destiny,” Akira says softly, but Kindaichi hears him anyway. Kindaichi has always heard him, no matter how softly or loudly he speaks.

“Do you want to give it a try?” They don’t have to say it out loud, because both of them know what he’s alluding to. In a sense, they’ve always known, in the glances that are just too long before they look away, and in the brushing of hands that set his skin ablaze.

“It’s worth a try.”

***

He and Kindaichi have a mutual break up halfway through their second year at university. It’s nothing personal to Kindaichi. Just wrong place, wrong time, Akira hypothesizes. Those can make or break any relationship. Neither of them can pinpoint what about their relationship feels wrong, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. They part on good terms and remain friends. Neither of them mention soulmates to each other again.

Akira can’t help but wonder if the universe is onto something or not. Choosing who you should spend the rest of your life with by means of a name on your ankle is confining and unfair to people like Kindaichi, who don’t have names there at all. But they didn’t work out, and was that why? Because they weren’t meant to be?

***

He stopped keeping up with volleyball after high school, but some of his new friends are on the school’s team. They convince him to go to a professional match, something to commemorate their last year of university. He’s not sure why he agrees to go, either from nostalgia or peer pressure, but he’s here now, and it would be rude to leave. They file into the stands, one by one. The stadium is packed, and part of him feels uneasy, being surrounded by so many people. Akira swallows it down and takes a seat.

It is there when Akira sees _him_ , dressed in Schweiden Adlers white, the number 20 emblazoned on his back. The camera pans over his face as the team is introduced, and Akira knows he would recognize him anywhere. _So this is what he’s been doing all these years_.

Kageyama is as good a setter as always, and paired with the power that is Ushijima Wakatoshi, the game ends quickly in their favor. They are the reigning V-League champions, after all, and he supposes he expected nothing less from a pair of geniuses.

Akira stretches as he stands, following the crowd as they depart. His friends excitedly discuss the match, and he hears Kageyama’s name thrown around more than once. Akira does not mention that they knew each other. _Knew_.

“Kunimi.”

He turns, and Kageyama is standing there, now with a Schweiden Adlers jacket thrown over his jersey, ignoring the passerby that gawk at him. 

“Kageyama,” he says warily. He can't help but think that the scene is reminiscent of the last time they spoke to each other, but this time, with an audience. A flurry of whispers is exchanged behind Akira’s back, mostly of _That’s Kageyama Tobio_ and _How does Kunimi know him?_ He tunes out the rest of the words, focusing on the person in front of him.

Up close, Akira can see Kageyama has adopted a hairstyle not unlike his own, parted down the middle. He does not ask how Kageyama found him. It’s just the two of them in this space, with nothing else around to distract them. Kageyama stretches out a hand. Akira takes it.

And they begin again.

_threnody (n): a song of lamentation for the dead_

**Author's Note:**

> some other kunikage fics that inspired this to some small extent:  
> [waterproof](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24926260), by tooruluvr  
> [the composition of change](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24836611), by caeruleae
> 
> stay safe out there, wear your mask, and remember to social distance <3
> 
> [my tumblr](https://lumenera.tumblr.com) (@lumenera)


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